


In this town (don't we love it now)

by inanhourofdreaming



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Nightmare Before Christmas Fusion, Crossover, Elf Eddie Kaspbrak, Gen, M/M, Werewolf Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanhourofdreaming/pseuds/inanhourofdreaming
Summary: Eddie is an angry elf from Christmastown, Richie is a werewolf from Halloweentown. Herein, they meet.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	In this town (don't we love it now)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a sweet, silly little thing I thought of and had to write down. Not sure whether I'll write more in this universe, but definitely a possibility!
> 
> Thanks to @EllieInTheStars for a quick beta.
> 
> Find me at @inanhourofdream on Twitter.

Eddie  _ really  _ hates Christmas.

Unusual for a Christmas elf, certainly, but not unprecedented – at least he _ thinks _ . He can’t be sure, really, because he’s the only Christmas elf he knows who’d rather cut off his tongue than sing another verse of “White Christmas.” 

Everything is just so...sugary. Everyone smiles all the time, and everything is cozy and warm. Sometimes cozy and warm is nice. Some days, after he’s spent a long few hours chopping down the giant Douglas Firs that grow all around the town and his face is pink with cold and exertion, there’s nothing better than a warm fire and a hot chocolate.

Days like today, on the other hand, he’d like nothing more than to burn the whole place to the ground. Myra is following him around  _ again _ , even though he’s told her at least three times that no, he does not want to go to the Christmas Cafe with her. He doesn’t  _ want _ to smile. He wants to be loud. He feels something burning in his chest a lot, these days. He doesn’t know what to call it, this feeling like someone is roasting chestnuts in the pit of his stomach. It’s a feeling almost too big for his skin, but he thinks if he lets it out, something really bad might happen.

Days like today, he remembers the Skeleton Man. No one talks about it, the time that Santa went missing. Eddie was only a child, then. He remembers the adults running around frantically, elves loading presents into the magic bags that transport them to Santa’s to be delivered, only the presents weren’t going anywhere. The sleigh was gone, and so was Santa. 

Eddie remembers the Skeleton Man. Tall and spindly, he’d popped his skull into the barn where Eddie had been brushing one of the reindeer. He’d always enjoyed that task because the reindeer would huff and kick, and Eddie wanted to huff and kick, too, sometimes, even if he couldn’t let himself actually do it. Eddie, who didn’t know enough at the time to be frightened, had asked why he had no skin.

The Skeleton Man had smiled and said, “Why, I’m a skeleton! We never have skin. It’s much scarier this way. Why do  _ you  _ have skin?” and Eddie had wondered about it for a long time afterwards. He’d even spent a few months panicking that his skin would disappear and everything would fall out until he’d look like the Skeleton Man, too, and frighten everyone else away. But the man had been nice, and he’d had a bunch of questions about the reindeer that Eddie had been happy to answer.

Before he’d left, Eddie had asked where he’d come from. Up until then, Eddie hadn’t known there was anywhere else  _ to  _ come from. Everyone he’d ever known had been from Christmastown. 

“Halloweentown, of course!” the man had yelled jubilantly. “But this is a fine place, too. Extraordinary,” he’d said, shaking his head in wonder. 

“Could I visit Halloweentown some day?” Eddie had asked, absolutely fascinated at the idea there could be an elsewhere to visit. 

The Skeleton Man had grinned at him, teeth all exposed. “Certainly!” he’d said. “We’re always happy for a new person to scare. Just get lost in the woods, you’ll find us eventually!” And then he’d been gone, darting out the door to whatever was next. Santa had gone missing a few weeks later, right before Christmas, and appeared again just as suddenly late that night with nary a word about where he’d been.

Eddie has never gotten up the courage to ask if Santa had known the Skeleton Man, but he’s always had a feeling he’d had something to do with Santa’s disappearance. The Skeleton Man had never returned but Eddie knows what he saw. His mother had smothered him in blankets when he’d gotten back, and hadn’t let him out for weeks after he’d mentioned the strange man. She’d insisted he was ill, and stuffed him full of warm chicken noodle soup and hot tea until Eddie finally claimed he’d made the whole thing up just to get her to leave him alone. He’s never told another soul about the man, but whenever things got really hard, and his chest felt like something was ready to burst out of it, he remembered him and reminded himself there was a somewhere else he could go to when he was ready. 

He’s ready now. He’s been packing a bag in secret for months, hiding it from his mother and Myra and all the other nosy elves. He’s stowed away food, and whatever clothes he could manage to claim had been ruined by reckless ice skates or snowball fights. He doesn’t know how far Halloweentown is but he’s ready to find out. He can’t ignore the burning feeling anymore and what he wants, more than anything, is to run.

He waits until the rest of the elves in the village are all asleep. It must be around one in the morning in that sweet spot just late enough that even Santa won’t be wandering around looking for cookies but not quite early enough for the early risers. He leaves a note on his pillow addressed to his mother. It doesn’t say much, just “There’s somewhere I need to go. Don’t worry about me. Love you, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t want her to worry, but he’s really more concerned that she’ll send a search party after him. She still might, but if Santa knows what else is out there, maybe he’ll understand. He’s supposed to understand everyone, right? Maybe Eddie isn’t the nicest elf, or nice at all, really but. Well, Santa will just have to understand, that’s all.

Eddie throws the sack over his shoulder and tiptoes out of the house. He leaves footprints in the freshly fallen snow, but there will be more by morning and it will cover his tracks. 

“Get lost in the woods,” Eddie nods to himself. And he loses himself in the trees.

* * *

Eddie feels like he’s been walking for a few hours. He lost track of where he is a while back, intentionally not thinking about it just to see if he would find it faster. So far, there’s been nothing. He’s just starting to feel a little hopeless when he sees a clearing up ahead. When he steps in, he knows he’s in the right place.

The trees have little doors on them. He sees the one that must be for Christmastown, a green tree decked in ornaments with a little gold knob. At least he knows how to get back if he ever needs to. He can’t imagine wanting to but it’s still nice to know. He scans the other trees, looking for the one that reminds him of the Skeleton Man. He skims over one door shaped like an egg and another like a four leafed clover before he sees it. A giant orange face with a spiky grin. Something about the grin reminds him of the Skeleton Man and he knows it’s the right door.

“Ok,” he huffs, hopping on his toes to psych himself up. “Here we go.”

He opens the door and hops through, and then he falls.

* * *

It feels like he’s falling a long time, but it’s probably only minutes until he plunks down onto some kind of cliff above what looks like – a graveyard? He’s never seen any graveyard look like this. It’s dark, and creepy, and there aren’t any flowers or statues of angels anywhere at all. 

“Um, hello?” he says timidly. He stands up slowly, brushing off his tights, and takes a better look around. There’s a large yellow moon in the sky. “Hello?” he says, louder. He isn’t actually sure who might be around. Ghosts, maybe?

He starts to descend down the cliff, holding his sack tightly to his shoulder. He’s not panicking. He knows he has to be in the right place. Where else would the Skeleton Man come from? He just hopes the whole place isn’t a graveyard or this may end up a wasted trip. He thinks grumpily of the egg tree and the four leaf clover, but somehow neither of those felt right. This is where he’s supposed to be, he’s sure of it. 

He’s stumbling in the dark, wishing his night vision was just a little bit better, when something huge and kind of furry rears up in front of him.

Eddie shrieks and stumbles back.

“Hey buddy,” comes a surprisingly nasal sounding voice. “You don’t smell like you’re from around here.”

“Wha–” Eddie tries. He swallows, trying to wet his dry throat and calm his racing heart. 

“Need some help?” comes the voice again, and then there’s a large, clawed hand reaching out to help him up.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Eddie says, default politeness taking over. He cautiously takes the hand, trying to avoid the sharp looking claws. 

He’s pulled up easily. Even standing, the creature is at least a foot and a half taller than him. 

“What are you?” Eddie says thoughtlessly, and then wants to kick himself. How  _ rude _ could he be?

The creature laughs, his broad chest shaking. 

“I’m a werewolf, but most people just call me Richie,” he says, and then points up. Eddie looks where he’s pointing, but there’s nothing up there. Just the moon. He looks back, confused.

The werewolf seems to pick up on it, because he says “it’s a full moon, man, that’s why I look like this,” and gestures to himself.

“Oh,” Eddie says, blinking. 

“What are you?” Richie asks, sniffing. “You smell...different.”

“Oh,” Eddie says again. “I’m an elf.”

“An elf. From Christmastown!” Richie yelps, excited. “Jack’s told us all about your kind, but you know we’ve never had one of you come all this way before. What are you doing here?” He drops back down onto all fours. He’s still a good head taller than Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t quite know how to answer. He doesn’t know how to talk about the burning feeling in his chest, or how he doesn’t fit in Christmastown. Richie is circling around him, sniffing at him and the sack he’s carrying.

“I just,” he starts. “I guess I just needed an adventure?”

Richie grins, and displays a set of extremely large, sharp teeth. “We know all about those!” he says. “What’s in the bag? It smells good!”

“Oh, I brought some food!” Eddie says, happy to have something to contribute. “Do you, um. Would you like some?”

“What have you got?” Richie asks, and noses at the sack.

“I have some cookies, and some meat,” Eddie says. “I think maybe a few clementines, too?”

“And you don’t mind sharing?” Richie pulls back, seeming almost shy all of the sudden. Eddie doesn’t like it. He’s just starting to feel comfortable here, and Richie’s been so nice even if he did scare him a bit right in the beginning.

“Of course not!” Eddie says. “Do you, um, do you want to eat here?” Eddie has no idea what the etiquette is for werewolves.

“We can go back to my place?” Richie suggests, still seeming a little timid.

“That sounds nice,” Eddie says, and means it. Richie seems a little surprised but is cheerful enough about it.

“Alright then,” Richie says. “Follow me, uh…”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, realizing with a jolt he hadn’t shared his name with Richie yet. “My name’s Eddie.”

“Then follow me, Eds,” Richie says, and wacks him with his wagging tail.

“It’s Eddie, not Eds,” Eddie corrects.

“Whatever you say, Eds,” Richie says, grinning back with his glinting teeth. Eddie knows when he’s being teased and this is definitely teasing, but it’s kind of a nice teasing? Nothing like the elves back in Christmastown and their false concern or indifference. He can just tell that Richie means well.

“Furball,” he says, grumpily, but Richie only huffs out a laugh. 

Richie doesn’t live too far from the graveyard, in a large cabin by the forest. 

“Are you out here alone?” Eddie asks. 

“Not always,” Richie shrugs. “But on full moons, I usually keep to my graveyard. Full moons are busy nights here. Lots of good scaring, and the witches always have spells to cast.”

“Oh, right,” Eddie says, feeling a little out of his depth. No one in Christmastown ever did anything really special on a full moon, except maybe those elves who wanted to take a date ice skating or to snuggle by a bonfire. Certainly no one was out scaring or casting spells. Anyway, Eddie never had anyone special back there. He’d always just stayed home.

“Are you the only werewolf?” he asks, suddenly upset at the idea that Richie might be.

“What, worried about me, Eddie Spaghetti? Little old wolf all alone and defenseless?” Richie teases.

“No,” Eddie snaps, even though he really was. He keeps being rude to Richie and he wonders if he’ll be kicked out, but Richie just laughs again and opens the door.

It’s a nice enough place on the inside. Not exactly cozy the way that his house back in Christmastown is, but nice all the same. Even when Richie flicks on the lights, there’s not much more than a low yellow glow. Richie freezes for a moment after he flips the switch, waiting for Eddie’s reaction. The light isn’t much, but it’s enough to see Richie a little more clearly. Eddie thinks about being frightened again before he realizes how silly that would be. He’s already here, and Richie’s been nothing but nice to him.

Richie’s just as big as he looked in the dark, though, and his teeth and claws are viciously sharp. He has hugely broad shoulders and his whole body ripples with muscles. He is objectively terrifying, but Eddie isn’t really scared.

“Do you have a table?” Eddie asks, and Richie blinks a few times before he jolts into movement again.

“This way,” Richie says, and Eddie thinks he sounds a little relieved, though maybe he’s just projecting. 

He’s got a large wooden table, big enough to seat at least 8. Eddie pulls his food out of his bag. He’d been right about the clementines. He’s got a few different kinds of cookies, at least three different meats, and a small sack of clementines. He spreads it all out on the wax paper he’d wrapped it in, and takes a seat on one of the chairs. It’s only a little bit high for him.

Richie doesn’t sit on a chair at all, but sits back on his haunches. He’s plenty high enough to reach.

“Go ahead,” Eddie gestures, and takes a piece of rolled up ham for himself to show Richie it’s ok. Richie takes the hint, and snatches up a piece of brisket with his claws. He’s clearly hungry, and Eddie isn’t, so he lets him have the bulk of it, taking a piece every now and then just to make sure Richie doesn’t feel awkward about it. 

Richie asks again why he’s come, so Eddie tells him about the Skeleton Man.

“Oh, that’s Jack, the Pumpkin King!” Richie says. “He’s at the big house with Sally. I can take you there tomorrow, if you want. Uh, I mean, if you want to stay here tonight. You don’t have to but if you want to…” he drifts off.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “That would be great, Richie. Thanks.” He smiles sweetly, and Richie gazes at him for a moment before glancing away, scratching at his ear with a claw. He looks back at the table and eyes a clementine but doesn’t reach for it.

“You can have one,” Eddie offers, holding it out for him.   
  
“Oh, um,” Richie says. “It’s just, when my hands are like this I can’t exactly…” he gestures to the clementine.

“Oh! Of course,” Eddie says, feeling silly. “I’ll peel it for you.” He peels the strips of skin off the clementine and pulls each section apart, passing them to Richie.

Richie seems a bit shy, again, or maybe just uncertain. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with Eddie. Maybe he’s just not used to kindness? 

“I’m not alone,” Richie says, after a moment. 

“Huh?” Eddie says.

“You asked before, if I was the only werewolf,” Richie says. “I’m not. I mean, I have a pack. It’s just we don’t always spend full moons together. We run together at the beginning of the night, but then we split off to mark our territory. It’s pretty big.” 

“That’s nice,” Eddie says. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not alone.” 

“Are you?” Richie asks. 

“Not right now,” Eddie says quietly. 

“Before? In, uh, Christmastown?” Richie asks.

“I suppose, in a way,” Eddie says. “There were always people, you know? My mom. Myra,” he grimaces. “But I didn’t fit in there. It didn’t feel right. Everyone there is always so happy, you know?”

Richie nods.

“And sometimes I was happy, but mostly,” Eddie pauses. “Mostly I have roasting chestnuts in my stomach.”

“Uh,” Richie tilts his head like a puppy. “You have what?”

“Roasting chestnuts,” Eddie tries to explain. “It’s like, when nothing is right, and no one listens, or when Myra keeps asking me out and she doesn’t listen when I say no, it feels like someone is roasting chestnuts in my stomach, and all the smoke and steam has to go somewhere but I can’t let it out and I feel like I’m going to burst.”

“Oh,” Richie says, nodding. “You’re frustrated. Or angry. Or frustrated  _ and _ angry. Yeah, I know that feeling.”

“Frustrated and angry?” Eddie says slowly. “That’s what that is?”

“Yeah,” Richie nods. “Then you have to yell or run to get it out.”

“That’s,” Eddie bites his lip. “That’s what gets you on the naughty list, I think.”

Richie’s big furry eyebrows shoot up.

“The  _ naughty _ list, huh?” Richie smirks. “What else gets you on there?” He wags his eyebrows.

Eddie glares at him. “Shut up,” he says, surprising himself.

Richie doesn’t, really but he says “ok, ok, settle down, Spaghetti” and Eddie does, for some reason. 

“Do you feel it now?” Richie asks. “The roasting chestnuts?”

“I’ve felt them my whole life,” Eddie says honestly.

“Right,” Richie huffs. “Well, I have an idea.”

“Is it a good idea?” Eddie asks, already certain that Richie probably has one bad idea for every good one. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he does.

“A great idea, Eds,” Richie says. “Come on, come outside for a minute.” 

Eddie is skeptical, but he follows Richie a little ways out of the cabin.

“There’s lots of ways to deal with being frustrated and angry, but you know one of the best?” Richie asks, tilting his head at Eddie.

Eddie shakes his head no.

Richie grins. “Like this.” And then he sits back and lets out a loud, ringing howl.

Eddie’s mouth drops open and he stares. He always thought yelling had to be ugly, somehow, but Richie’s howl sounds kind of nice. And then he hears other howls answering from a distance.

“Well?” Richie grins at Eddie. “Are you going to join me?” 

He howls again, and Eddie realizes he really likes this place, and he likes Richie, and he really, really wants to be loud. So he is.

The next time Richie howls Eddie lets loose with him, bellowing a matching howl out into the night. He feels the steam in his belly he’s been holding in for so long finally scream out of him like a teapot. 

There’s a pause in the answering howls in the distance before they come back twice as loud. Richie yips, and laughs, and howls, and Eddie does, too.

He’s not sure how long they go, but by the time they stop his throat is getting sore and he’s yawning as much as howling. He thinks it must be nearly morning.

“Let’s get you to bed, Eds,” Richie says, nudging him back to the cabin. “You’ve had a long day.” He sits Eddie on the couch and wanders off, probably to get him some blankets. Eddie drifts off to sleep before he gets back.

* * *

When Eddie wakes up, he doesn’t hear any birds chirping, and he’s on a couch he doesn’t recognize. There’s a spring poking into his side, but he still feels better rested than he has in years. The whole surreal night comes back to him in a wave, and he can’t help but grin.

He glances around the cabin and then wanders over to the kitchen and fills the kettle with water. He doesn’t want to use any of Richie’s food without asking, but he has some tea bags he’d brought with him and he thinks they’ll do. Richie had seemed fine with the food he’d brought, and the least he could do was make him some tea.

He splashes water on his face and changes his clothes, glad to be out of the ones he’d slept in. The kettle whistles, and he’s just taken it off the stove and poured two large mugs when he hears a door creak behind him.

“I hope you don’t mind, I’ve made –” Eddie stops, abruptly. Where he’d been expecting Richie, there is instead a tall, broad shouldered, shirtless man. His ears are pointed like Eddies and his hair is a fluffy mess. He smiles at Eddie, bleary eyed. He’s handsome, Eddie thinks, and flushes.

“Morning, Eds,” says the man, and that’s  _ Richie’s voice. _

“Richie?” Eddie squeaks.

“In the flesh,” Richie spreads his arms.

“But you. I mean, you’re. Uh,” Eddie stumbles. 

“Human?” Richie supplies.

“Smaller,” Eddie spills out, and immediately regrets it. 

Richie laughs, and it’s definitely the same laugh. It’s still the same Richie.

“Still taller than you, Eds,” he smiles.

“So when you said the moon was why you looked like that, you meant…” Eddie starts.

“Yup,” Richie says. “The rest of the time, I look like this. I can change on purpose when I want to, we all can, but I just thought maybe you’d, uh,” he pauses, bashful. “I guess I thought maybe you’d appreciate seeing me this way?”

“I do!” Eddie shouts, awkwardly. “Uh, I mean, I like you both ways. You’re fine both ways.” He shuts his eyes and cringes. Maybe this is why he never went on any dates. He’s a  _ disaster. _ He opens one eye and then the other when he sees Richie is just smiling at him, his cheeks pleasantly pink. 

“Yeah?” Richie asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. 

Richie moves to take the tea from Eddie’s hand. “You sure you don’t turn into anything? You have those big pretty Bambi eyes. If you turn into a deer, we might have a conflict of interest.”

“No,” Eddie huffs, pretending to be annoyed but sure he’s not fooling Richie in the slightest.

“Well, that’s good, Eds,” Richie says, taking a sip. “Cause I like you, too, and that would just be awkward.”

Eddie can’t stop the small smile that spreads as he looks up at Richie, who still stands at least half a foot taller than him.

“So what do you say after we finish these, I take you up to see Jack?” Richie says. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, he still loves to talk about Christmastown.”

“Yeah, Richie, that’d be great,” Eddie says. 

“And maybe after, I could introduce you to the rest of my pack? If you want,” Richie says.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I’d love that.” 

And he did.


End file.
